


Us, Someday

by Braincoins



Series: Ryoumelle [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Breezy Romelle, Dreams, F/M, Fluff, Ryou as the former clone, Ryoumelle for Breezy's Birthday!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28624986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: A day of joy and... well, maybe not peace. But happiness, nonetheless.
Relationships: Romelle/Ryou (Voltron)
Series: Ryoumelle [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671298
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Us, Someday

**Author's Note:**

> **HAPPY BIRTHDAY,[BREEZY!](https://breezycheezyart.tumblr.com/)** May this year be as wonderful as you deserve and then some!
> 
> Thanks to [mckinlily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mckinlily/pseuds/mckinlily) for the beta!! 
> 
> Since this is in my Ryoumelle series, we all know that means [Breezy!Romelle](https://breezycheezyart.tumblr.com/post/185184017143/i-finally-got-around-to-designing-a-formal) and Ryou who used to be Kuron and is now Altean and sort of a proto-paladin, right? And that the reason this Ryou is Altean is because the Goddess of the Universe made him so? She's done a couple good things for him... could be she's still helping him out a bit? :3
> 
> **Sidenote:** I headcanon that Shiro's (and therefore Ryou's) mom's name was Yumiko.  
> ==========================

“FATHA!” came the loud shout, followed immediately by a vigorous jostling. “Fatha, Fatha, Fatha…”

“I’m awake, Yumiko,” he groaned, rolling over to see his three-year-old daughter bouncing on the bed he normally shared with his wife. She was gone, leaving plenty of room for Yumiko to bounce all over their bed.

“You hafta _WAKE UP_!” she told him.

“I can’t very well stay asleep through this,” he told her, grabbing for her and pulling her down to the bed. She screeched and giggled as he pushed her nightgown up and blew a raspberry on her belly.

“FATHA!” she yelled when she wasn’t giggling and thrashing.

“What?” he asked, sitting up to grin at her.

“Mutha tol’ me ta wake youuuuu.”

“I’m awake!”

“You s’pose ta _come wif me!!_ ”

“Ohhhh. You left out that part,” he told her. “You were too busy bouncing on the bed, which you know you’re not supposed to.”

“Mutha say so.”

He scooted out of bed. “Did she?” he asked archly.

“She say I can do whateva I hadda if it got you up.”

“Well, tell you what.” He slid his feet into his slippers – even with the new rug they’d gotten, the floors were still chilly – and stood up, turning back to face Yumiko. “I won’t tell her you jumped on the bed if _you_ don’t tell her I took so long to get up, okay?”

She beamed and hopped out of the bed. She wasn’t wearing her slippers, but then, knowing her, she probably wasn’t staying still long enough for the floor to chill her feet. “’KAY!” she declared. “C’MON!” and she ran out of the room.

He chuckled, walking after her, yawning and combing a hand back through his hair. He scratched at the stubble on his chin and figured it was about time to shave. But it could get so _cold_ outside. Maybe it might be a good idea to grow it out, until it warmed up.

And then the loveliest voice in the universe said, “Good morning, my love!” in a bright and chipper tone.

He stopped dead and smiled at her: she still had her sleep bonnet on, and she was wearing the robe he’d got her as a birthday present, even though there was no way it was warm enough for this weather. Then again, she was at the stove, cooking breakfast. Perhaps that was keeping her warm enough.

Yumiko ran up and practically threw herself at her mother’s leg, wrapping herself around it (as much as she could) for a hug.

“Hey, hey, careful!” he said at the same time his wife laughed.

“Oh, she’s fine,” he was chided. She rubbed Yumiko’s back fondly.

“Is he kicking?” Yumiko wanted to know, laying her ear against part of her mother’s stomach.

“Not right now, and you probably couldn’t feel it there anyway,” she informed her. “Go set the table for breakfast.”

“BREKFUSS!” she declared happily and, grabbing the stack of bowls and plates, ran straight away to the table.

“I’m so glad we got dishes that don’t break easily,” he murmured as he came up to slide his arms around her and nuzzle her cheek.

“Someone needs to shave soooon,” she sing-songed, but otherwise didn’t protest.

He looked over her shoulder: pancakes, _nutriamo_ – a sort of hot, chunky version of _nutrien_ ; it reminded him of oatmeal – and sliced fruit. “What if I grew a beard? Just through the winter.”

She made a face, but said, “It’s your hair. Do as you like with it, my heart.”

But if she didn’t like it, he wasn’t going to do it. He appreciated her words, but he also appreciated her hand on his cheek as she gazed into his eyes. “I’ll shave after breakfast.”

She shook her head, but he just kissed her cheek.

“And how is the love of my life this morning?” he asked.

“Hungry. I swear I wasn’t this hungry when I was carrying Yumiko.”

“You were,” he insisted.

“I wasn’t,” she countered. “Nowhere _near_ this hungry.”

“You wanted more fruit with Yumiko,” he corrected her. “Young man in there seems to want more carbs though.”

“I still think we should name him after you.”

He let her go. “I’m going to help Yumiko set the table. She’s probably forgotten where the flatware goes again.”

She grabbed his hand and tugged, just enough to get him to face her.

“I mean it. I want to name him after his father.”

“His father doesn’t have an actual name.”

“Don’t start that again?” she pleaded. “Not on such a nice morning.”

He sighed. “I-it… I don’t know; it feels like cheating somehow? I can’t explain it.”

She walked away from the stove, took his hand and pressed it to her belly. “You have a name, just as you have a wife and a child and another one on the way. You have a name and a home and a life. You are a good and wonderful man,” she caressed his cheek – stubbly as it was – with her other hand, and smiled as she gazed up into his eyes, “and I would never have fallen in love with you if you weren’t.

“We don’t have to name him after you if you truly don’t want to, but don’t let it be just because you feel nameless.”

“I know what to name him!” Yumiko burst in, violently hugging her father’s leg this time.

“What’s that?” he asked, looking down at her fondly.

“Whateva Jappa-eeze is for ‘Yumiko’s Baby Brother’!”

He snorted. “ _Japanese_ , and that would be a very long thing to name a baby.”

“But what _is it_?” she demanded.

So he dutifully told her, “Yumiko no otouto.”

And, being a three-year-old with a new word or phrase, she immediately began screaming, “YUMIKONOTOTO!” as she ran back to the table.

His lovely wife turned back to the stove to keep the last pancake from burning. “Go help her set the table then. I’ve got some warmed _sefre_ milk in the therma-jug.”

He smiled, kissed her cheek, and set about ferrying things to the table. Yumiko _had_ , in fact, mixed up the flatware’s proper positions, and so he helped her with those, then made sure she didn’t try to carry the heavy pancake platter or therma-jug, leaving her the fruit bowl, the syrup, things like that.

Once everything was on the table, he pulled out the chair for his wife, kissed her hand, pulled out the chair for his daughter, blew another raspberry on her cheek, and then went to sit down.

This was the most perfect life he could ever have imagined, and he felt warm inside even though he hadn’t had a single bite to eat or drop to drink yet.

Ryou awoke in the darkness, blinking back into reality. Still living alone in his small house, in the middle of the night, no screaming three-year-old or smiling wife.

But Romelle was snuggled up next to him in bed, warm and soft.

He smiled and kissed her forehead softly, not wanting to risk waking her. She murmured quietly and snuggled in closer.

_Someday_ , he thought, watching her sleep until his eyelids were heavy again. _Someday that’ll be you and me. Us. Our family, our children, our home. Together._ He felt certain about that, for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. He closed his eyes and exhaled contentment. _Someday._


End file.
